The vibrant cultures of Central America are far too often overshadowed by their larger neighbors to the north and south, but what does that mean for a local ethnic group that’s even neglected within its own borders? For the Afro-Indigenous Garífuna people of coastal Honduras, the struggle for recognition is also the struggle to preserve their unique culture into future generations.
The short documentary On Our Land: Being Garífuna in Honduras gives us an on-the-ground look at how this plays out in communities like Trujillo and Limón, where some of the country’s nearly 150,000 Garífuna speakers are concentrated. Through a series of interviews with community members, local politicians, and members of the Garífuna diaspora in the United States, the documentary explores urgent challenges of linguistic survival, institutional representation, and that are affecting the Garífuna.
As the documentary explains, the mixed Garífuna culture formed after a shipwreck left captured Africans stranded on islands of the lesser Antilles, where they intermarried with indigenous Arawak and Caribs. When the British took the islands of St. Vincent and Dominica in the 18th century, the expelled the so-called “Black Caribs” to the island of Roatan off the northern coast of Honduras.
Directed by Neil Dixon, Erica Renee Harding, and James P. Frazier, On Our Land shows how the Garífuna have survived and thrived in the face of continued obstacles, all without losing the passion and joy that characterizes them as a people.
i want a setting that was once a high fantasy world but time has passed and the days of quests are over while the age of indoor plumbing has begun but the elves and stuff like still exist
like i want fuckin.. space operas where humans weren’t all that phased by aliens because there had always been other species, and our starfleet utilizing translation potions to help communicate
or a cyberpunk world with like digital magic and the hideous, deformed descendants of dragons creeping through the deepest darkest alleyways of the cities, devouring any fool who dares go down where the neon lights don’t reach
magic mecha to defend us from the giants awoken form their slumber by fucking dwarfs who couldn’t stop mining where they knew they shouldn’t, meanwhile rival mage factions are getting close to all out war to be fought with spellcasting pistols and rifles rather than wands or staffs
come on guys what the fuck happens 1500+ years after our young hero leaves his village to become a mighty warrior i gotta know y’all
*cracks knuckles*
This is a small, but highly interesting genre that I find absolutely fascinating because, generally speaking, Epic Fantasy worlds are VERY OLD and they DON’T EVOLVE (see: Harry Potter, Game of Thrones).
But anyway. I think Brandon Sanderson was writing something like that, which means that in the not to distant future, someone will probably claim he invented it, but IN THE MEAN TIME, here are some recs:
1. Cold Magic by Kate Elliot 2. The Curse Worker Trilogy, by Holly Black 3. The Order of the Air series by Jo Graham and Melissa Scott (these are in the same ‘verse as Graham’s other Numinous World books which take place after the fall of Troy, during the ascension of Ptolemy I, the reign of Cleopatra, and the French Revolution, as well as short stories throughout history). 4. The Many-Coloured Land books by Julian May 5. Actually, I think the Trillium books that Julian May co-wrote would count too, but you have to read MZB to get there so I understand if you don’t want to. 6. The Buried Age, which is a Star Trek book about the theory of very old thing being more advanced than you, an advanced society
I think Kevin Hearne has a series too? Iron Druid or something?
MY POINT IS: please write more of these, they sound like fun.
Epic Fantasy worlds are VERY OLD and they DON’T EVOLVE (see: Harry Potter, Game of Thrones).
The Belgariad and Mallorean by David Eddings have the “Fantasy worlds are static and can never move past their medieval fantasy trappings” thing as an important plot element between the two series, with the latter making trying to break that stasis the overall goal of the series.
This is true! And Eddings doubles down in the Elenium and the Tamuli by introducing sci-fi elements to the world-building and mythology. Also at one point there’s kind of a space ship? It’s a little vague (again, bc of the plot).
And this is how The End is stopped. Not by the gods or goddesses, the other races than man, no. It is Tumblr. As a mass running after a now confused and tail tucking Fenrir, whining softly as the crowd chants “PUPPER! PUPPER! PUPPER!”
Better yet: Fenrir escapes his chains and lopes forward to destroy the earth, and is met by a crowd of people. An army, Fenrir thinks, and bares his teeth in a ferocious snarl and charges toward them.
They cheer.
Wait … cheer?
Fenrir slows, confused. He smells no fear, senses no rage. This is … a very strange army.
The first hand—weaponless!—reaches for him; he tenses, ready to tear the offending limb to shreds, and lets out a high little yippy whine when it pats him about the ears.
Immediately the noise is reproduced by some four or five of the nearest humans; he smells excitement; more hands are patting him.
It’s nice.
The humans crowd around him, patting him and scritching him and shuffling around to give others a chance. Voices coo, and make puppy noises, and someone catches just the right spot and he cocks his leg and scratches himself, drawing a multitude of oohs and ahhs and cheers and squees.
At some point, his hunger awakens at the scent of burnt flesh; a human has brought him what he later learns is a hot dog; he swallows it in one bite, to more cheering, and looks around hopefully for more.
It is not long before more is bought: steaks and Big Macs and bacon; it seems like much of the group has brought him a snack of some kind and was hoping for a chance to give it to him.
The End of the World is supposed to be at hand, but Fenrir does not care. His hunger sated, his battle-lust swept away by a tide of gently petting hands, he rolls over, careful not to crush his many companions, and takes a nap.
“Who’s a good boy?” they ask him, over and over.
Is this some psychological warfare, he wonders, designed to undermine his confidence and remind him that he is nothing more than a monster who needs to be chained?
“Who’s a good boy, huh, huh?” “Who’s my good boy?” “
And then one of them answers the question for him.
“You are!”
‘Me?’ he thinks. But if there was any doubt, she confirms it.
“You are, yes you are.”
Fenrir’s tongue hangs out of his mouth as he grins. ‘I’m a good boy!’
This would work. Fenrir was betrayed by gods that he trusted; they feared his strength and tricked him into accepting being bound because he trusted Tyr, his friend. (Loki was not directly involved in selling out his own son; usually Loki is involved any time someone gets tricked by the Aesir, but it’s notable that he was not, here.) The deal was that Tyr would put his arm in Fenrir’s mouth to prove that the gods were acting in good faith when they tied Fenrir up to “let him prove he could break the chain”; when he couldn’t break the chain, the gods refused to free him, and Fenrir bit Tyr’s arm off, because that was the deal.
So Fenrir has a serious rageboner going on against the Aesir and all of creation; that’s why he wants to eat the sun and end existence. A huge number of humans validating him, praising him, petting him and giving him yummy treats might actually convince him that, while the Aesir are still assholes and would deserve it if he ate them, he should not eat the sun because Midgardians are totally cool and give him petties.
Urocyon's Jaunts 2.0 
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